


Kiss me while my Fear of God is Alive

by JellyPanda00



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Sex, Blasphemy, Blasphemy kink, Catholic, Eating out, Incubus Crowley, It Was A Dream, Loss of Virginity, M/M, No Beta, Priest Aziraphale, Temptation, Wet Dream, technically somnophilia in the past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-24 07:08:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20701952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JellyPanda00/pseuds/JellyPanda00
Summary: Aziraphale grew up in a Catholic Church. Eventually ordained as a priest, he moves to Tadfield to begin practicing. For the past six years however, an incubus had been feeding off him in his dreams, and finally decides its time to meet in the real world.





	Kiss me while my Fear of God is Alive

**Author's Note:**

> DO NOT READ IF YOU WILL BE OFFENDED BY BLASPHEMY!!!!!  
This was very cathartic for me to release my anger at being forced to be Christian but I also am not catholic so if I got anything wrong, I sincerely apologize. But don’t read if the idea of blasphemy will upset you! Enjoy!

Aziraphale’s whole life as it were, had always centered around one particular church. Since the day his mother dropped him at its doorstep as a baby to the day of his ordination as a priest in his own right, he considered that place home. The priest and eldest nun Gabriel and Michael, both fitting named after archangels, blessed him with a name — the name of an angel at that: Aziraphale.

He idolized them both from the day he met them, always knowing even from a young age he wanted to be a priest like Gabriel. He followed Michael’s teachings to a T as he grew, never straying from the path of righteousness in front of him no matter the temptations he faced. Now finally, after years and years of strife and schooling, he’s obtained his dream.

“Congratulations, Aziraphale,” Michael said pleasantly, though her tone was cold and distant as always. Since the incident, going on six years now, the people who so fondly raised him were wary of him, hesitant to interact as if his sin could be transferred to them or he had somehow brought it upon himself someway. He supposed, in afterthought, that maybe he had.

“We’re very proud of you.”

Aziraphale gave her a tight lip smile in return. “Why thank you, sister. I am truly-”

“We found a job opening for you in Tadfield as a priest,” Gabriel interrupted, cutting him off with a grin that verged on a sneer, eyes so dark they gleaned purple in the light. As a devoted, Catholic believer, Aziraphale had met and known several different priests in his life, and yet none had the same level of cruelty as Gabriel. The man’s entire demeanor cut like a knife through him like a knife after desperately seeking his approval since he was young. “You leave tomorrow.”

His words sent Aziraphale reeling. At first, his words hadn’t even registered, a startled “what?” escaping his lips as he tried to comprehend what it was that Gabriel was telling him. Once the realization had set in though, a certain panic crept into his chest, hallowing out a home in what had been a joyous feeling and burying under his skin like a disease. “Wait! I was only ordained today, in-in fact it's only been an hour at most,” the collar still felt unnatural around his neck, too new. “I haven’t had any experience, father.”

“Don’t worry too much, God is with you,” Gabriel said, discarding his fears as though they meant nothing to him. “Besides, the priest there is retiring and looking for a replacement, I’m sure he and the other nuns will help you along. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I assume you need to begin packing and we have much more important matters to look after. May the Lord be with you.”

“An-And with your spirit,” Aziraphale stuttered, still trying to wrap his mind around the entire encounter.

“Your cab will be here at eight a.m. sharp. Good luck with your future endeavors,” Micahel said as she turned, robes sweeping behind her.

With that, the two were off without so much as a glance back at the person they claimed to care for up until that point.

This was it. What he had always dreamt of, what his devout upbringing had always wanted of him. Despite the undercurrent fear, he was ecstatic, heart fluttering madly around in his chest as if it had sprouted angel wings of its own.

Adjusting his collar, he slid his thumb over the new white clerical that he had been given. He couldn’t help but ask himself, what if he messed up? How disappointed would Gabriel and Michael be of him? It was the first time he was ever leaving his church, going to a new town with new people and having to start all over.

It wasn’t as if he had a choice though, he reminded himself. If it is God’s will than he shall obey. He took a few minutes to gather his bearings and jolted himself into action.

Late that night, when he finally forced his restless mind to sleep, he dreamt of a serpent as always. A man with wine-colored hair and inhumanely golden eyes kissing every inch of his skin until Aziraphale woke in a cold sweat, underwear damp and straining. His chest heaved as he wiped his face and prayed to God for it to stop, just as he had done for the past six years.

____________________________________________________________________

  
  


Tadfield was a quaint, peaceful little town. It only took Aziraphale a few days at most to feel at home in the new church. The elder priest there, Father Shadwell, had offered to let him lead the sermon on what was to be his second Sunday there now. He was indeed planning to retire which would eventually leave him and Deacon Pulsifer to take his place. While the older man was eccentric at best, he was kind and offered great advice and support— something Aziraphale hadn’t known that he lacked in life until now. Sister Mary had made sure he had everything he needed in his new home and despite some of the other nuns being slightly harsh with each other and him, he already felt ten times more welcome here than he ever did back home under the judgemental gaze of sister Michael. Perhaps it was because they didn’t know his secrets dealing with temptation, or perhaps they were just nicer people in general, he couldn’t be sure. 

The children of the church were also a joy to be around, constantly playing fun and adventurous games with each other. Adam, the obvious leader of the group, was a charming young man who he could already tell would one day change the world. 

He was sure Gabriel and Michael had been trying to get rid of him, or perhaps punish him by sending him to an unknown place with new people and the sudden weight of being a priest with no guidance, but as far as he was concerned, it had been a blessing.

The dreams of the man and snake never stopped as he had hoped with moving somewhere else, but he hadn't made the mistake of telling anyone about it again as he had in his old church. If anything, he had gotten worse, lasting all night and drawing sin out of his body when he wasn’t awake to stop it.

With a tired sigh, he sat down softly against the lone chair in his room. His room remained fairly bleak, consisting only of a plush chair, a desk, nightstand, and a bed. It wasn’t the worst though, and the desk was large enough to hold his selection of books he had brought with him until he found himself a cabinet for them. Of course, he had hung up his crosses around the room, one above the headboard of the bed, one above the door, and a few scattered on the walls. Some were simple, some were more ornate that he found to be quite beautiful. They stood out starkly against the pale white walls and while the lack of personality did make it feel less like a home, it looked new and bright, exactly the kind of future he wanted for himself.

With the few hours of free time he had available tonight, he planned to enjoy his favorite things in the world: a new book and a bottle of wine. It had been a long time since he last indulged himself in this sort of way, but when he passed by a quaint bookstore on his way to town, he couldn’t help but stop in and see what new releases might be available. Fiction wasn’t often his favorite choice of books, but  _ Good Omens _ had caught his attention. He hoped the book would be as good as he was imagining it to be, though the thought of an angel and demon somehow stopping God’s ineffable plan seemed absurd to him.

The wine was pleasant, lighting up his taste buds with the acidic sweetness that calmed his nerves until he was all but slumped against the chair. The book was actually quite amazing once he got into the meat of the story. So engrossed in the material, he failed to notice the rattle of the windowsill, or how the temperature in the room suddenly spiked, of which he blamed on his imagination and the alcohol respectfully. He ignored them both, trying to imagine instead what the angel and demon were going to do next in the wild adventure when a loud hiss startled him out of his fixation.

In front of him sat a wondrously dark snake, much larger than any that normally lived in these areas ever got to be. Its body coiled tightly in loops, head raised and ready to strike.

He should be afraid, in fact, terrified, but the familiarity of the snake struck a chord deep in his subconscious. He blinked, trying to clear the wine from his mind and focus. He wondered if he had fallen asleep and was dreaming the snake-like always. the beast matched the one from his dreams to a T; even the awe-inspiring golden eyes that bored into his soul were somehow there in front of him again. 

It hissed again, sounding far too much like a chuckle for Aziraphale’s comfort.

“This isn’t real, is it?” Aziraphale let out a laugh, running a hand through his wild curls. “I’m dreaming again, snakes don’t laugh.”

The snake didn’t answer, watching him closely.

“Oh boy. I must have lost my mind, haven’t I? I wonder how you wake yourself up from a dream. Do you pinch yourself or is it more along the lines of something else?”

“Try pinching yourself, might work some.”

Aziraphale nodded, it made sense to him as he reached down and pinched his arm.

With a jolt, he looked up quickly. “Who-”

The snake was gone. In its place stood a man in a dark black suit with black sunglasses hiding his eyes, with perfectly styled crimson hair.

_ The  _ man. The one that haunted him every night in his dreams, who would do such sinful things to him it would make the devil himself blush. “I-I’m definitely dreaming, I have to be, you aren’t real.”

“Think again, Father,” The man smirked, a forked tongue peeking out between his lips. “I’ve been looking forward to this day for a long time now.”

Aziraphale blinked, confusion clouding his thoughts. “What? Who are you?”

“Oh,” the man laughed. “So sorry, a pleasure to meet you,” he took hold of one of Aziraphale’s hands, bringing it to his lips. “The name is Crowley; incubus.”

The ghost of his words sent goosebumps up his arm which he quickly snatched away. “Incubuses aren’t real. I don’t know who you are or how you got in here but you need to leave immediately.”

“But I just told you who I was, and we’re hardly strangers. We’ve been friends for around six years now, haven’t we?” the man inched closer. Aziraphale struggled to back farther into his chair, panic welling in his chest. “Besides, I’m as real as your God that you pray to every night. Don’t tell me you’re a priest who doesn’t believe in God.”

“How dare you question my faith in the Almighty,” Aziraphale snapped defensively. He wasn’t sure why he was entertaining the man at all, he should scream, yell, force the man out or draw attention from either Father Shadwell or Decon Pulsifer. Yet something about the man, Crowley, kept him from doing so. He was captivating and entrancing, drawing him in and commanding the space in the room in an indescribable way. 

“Sorry, Father,” Crowley’s lips twitched up, both hands bracing himself on the armrests of the chair. The moniker he wore with such pride sounded like a taunt on the man’s lips. He leaned in close until their noses almost touched. “I wouldn’t dream of making you question your faith.”

Aziraphale’s tort reply caught in his throat as soft lips brushed against his. Crowley grinned against his mouth, grabbing hold of the rosary beads around his neck. He tugged harshly on them, pulling the priest into a much rougher, dirtier kiss.

Aziraphale pulled back quickly as far as he could without breaking his rosary. “I… what are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing, Angel? What we always do,” Crowley leaned down, peppering the skin of his throat in hot, wet kisses. Aziraphale could feel himself growing hot under his clerical clothing. “Only this time it’s a little more real.”

“Mr. Crowley, I’m a priest,” Aziraphale stammered. Most priests, including him, believed in remaining celibate, and most definitely would not lose their virginity to a random stranger, an incubus at that. He indulged himself with food and wine but never, never with anything more.

And yet, at the same time, he couldn’t help thinking back to his dreams, how many mornings he woke up hard and aching, wishing it had all been real.

The demon sat up. “Oh please, just Crowley. I ‘ll have you know, I met Jesus on a few occasions and you should have seen what he did with the holes in his hands if you know what I mean.”

Anger filled the priest quickly at the remark. “How dare you-”

“ _ How dare you _ ,” Crowley mocked, running his hands up the man’s chest. “Tell me no then if you really don’t want to continue with the rest of the night that I have planned. I wouldn’t ever do anything you didn’t want, Angel, but I need to hear you say it.”

He opened his mouth, prepared to say it, but no words came.

After a moment's silence, Crowley went back to what he was doing, pulling at his white-collar until it popped out, falling down onto his lap. “That’s what I thought.”

Aziraphale gulped, at a loss of what to do. He was still convinced it was all a dream. Crowley willed his head back, threading his fingers soft curls as he bit and sucked at his neck. He could feel the way the skin heated up under his touch, how the priest shivered, suppressing a soft whimper to the back of his throat. 

He wanted more so, so desperately. He craved to hear the man scream, to suck every last drop of energy out of this encounter. The sin of seducing a priest made it taste all the sweeter, each button he popped open with nimble fingers he could feel the man’s arousal grow. It was intoxicating on a level he had never experienced before with any other human; this man may just be his favorite meal yet. 

Finally, the top opened completely, falling down and off his shoulders. Aziraphale hurried to wrap his arms around his stomach, hiding the pouch of his stomach from the view of the demon who was watching him with such a look that could only be described as hunger. “No undershirt, Father?”

Aziraphale turned pink, looking away. “I was late this morning. No one noticed.”

Crowley just chuckled, grabbing him by his arms and pulling them both up only to toss him down hard onto the bed. Before he could even react to the sudden change, the demon was on his knees between his legs, looking over the top of his glasses at him. 

Aziraphale gasped, shocked at the glowing gold eyes underneath, not that of a human but of a snake. He had to be dreaming, there was no way around it.

“One of the perks of being an incubus,” Crowley grabbed hold of the priest's pants, pulling them down in a motion that was smoother than physically possible. “I can see your every desire. And you know what you desire most, father? To be worshipped.”

Aziraphale’s cheeks burned, burning hotter than the fire that was growing in his groin. “I have no idea what you are-“

“Yes, you do, Angel. I know everything you want,” he gently picked up one of his legs, running thin bony hands over his shin so softly it almost felt loving. He raised the leg up further, knocking him onto his back and pressed a kiss to the inside of his ankle.

Aziraphale shivered at the intimate touch to such a soft area. Crowley continued further up, pressing ghostly chaste kisses up the inside of his leg, stopping only long enough to suck on a spot until it ached or to leave a sharp nip against a particularly sensitive area.

“As I kneel before you, Father Aziraphale,” Crowley whispered against his knee, stroking the backside of it until his leg jumped uncontrollably. “I beg you for forgiveness for this sin I am about to commit. Forgive me for craving the taste of your holy-“

“Stop-stop!” Aziraphale shouted, drawing away. “This is blasphemy!”

Crowley laughed softly. “But you taste so truly divine, one of God’s purest creations. Oh, how I just want to ruin you.”

Aziraphale burned red down to his chest.

The demon reached for his underwear, pulling them down swiftly to join the rest of his clothes in the discarded pile below them. 

“This is a terrible sin…” Aziraphale worried, biting his lip.

“May I remind you father, of Romans chapter seven or whatever. I am a slave to sin. Quite an erotic line if you ask me. Go ahead my dear, give in to your destiny of being a slave to sin.”

A wave of guilt crashed over him as he sat naked in front of the fully clothed demon. He was sinning in the worst ways- with a demon, even if it was only a dream. He sat on a bed in a church no less while a man spoke blasphemy from his lips while he seduced a man of God. Aziraphale reached up, grabbing hold of his rosary with an urge to pray. To truly ask for forgiveness and salvation. 

“Oh,” Crowley smiled, pushing his glasses off for good. The eyes of a snake stared back at him with a new look of desire. “Prayer huh. Go ahead, Angel, show me how you pray.”

The priest clutched tight to his necklace of beads and uttered: “dear God, I know I’m a sinner, and I ask for your forgiveness.”

Crowley bent forward, sticking his long, serpent tongue out to taste the man’s arousal. The hitch in his breath only spurred the demon on as he continued to tease with kitten licks across the shaft and head of the man’s dick. It was short, but where it lacked in length it made up with girth. Crowley couldn’t wait until next time, hoping he could ride the man into exhaustion just to know what it would feel like inside him.

“I believe… oh God,” fingers found their way into red hair, not pulling or pushing away, just gently threading through the short locks. “Jesus Christ is Your Son. I believe that He died-mmm,” Aziraphale whimpered, head falling back. Crowley pushed at his knees, forcing them up so he could reach what he really wanted.

“For my sins! That you-you raised him to life…”

Crowley smirked at the way his cute picker twitched in the exposed air, practically begging to be touched. He leaned down, testing the waters as he licked at his hole.

Aziraphale’s hips bucked into the air so hard they left the bed. He whined, wiggling both towards the demon and away. “That’s… that-“

“Continue your prayer, angel,” the blasphemy of praying was driving him up the wall. He wanted to continue to defile such a sacred ritual between a priest and God.

Aziraphale was conflicted. He couldn’t think straight anymore with the man eating him out like he was his favorite meal. The feeling was what he had dreamt of feeling like a teenager, each drag of his tongue making his hips grate, the slick smooth muscles turning his skin to fire. His erection strained high in the air, sweat dripping down his forehead both from the heat and the actions of the demon. Yet still, he persisted, determined to finish at least a short prayer. “I want to trust Him as my Savior and follow Him as Lord.”

Crowley sunk his teeth down into the tender skin of his inner thigh just to feel those soft plush thighs squeeze against his head before resuming his ministrations, sucking and licking at every inch he could get at.

“From this day forward, oh please,” he wasn’t sure who the plea was directed at but he couldn’t stop. “Please please, please… oh, guide my life and help me to do your will.”

The last sentence was hurried before he lost all control of himself “IpraythisinthenameofJesus. Amen! Amen… oh lord, I need-“

“Need what, Father?”

“I need more,” Aziraphale cried, white curls mussed against the bed.

“Beg for it then.”

Aziraphale bit his lip, tears threatening to overflow. His entire body was being consumed by flames, he needed it to stop just as much as he needed more. “I need to cum, I need it, I want… I want you to fuck me. Please.”

“Are you sure?” Crowley stood, slithering over his body to nibble at one of his nipples.

“Yes,” ‘no’ it was too fast too soon along. It could have been only minutes since the snake first appeared or hours, he couldn’t tell anymore.

“Well, if you say so,”

While Aziraphale shut those pretty blue eyes, Crowley performed a demonic miracle, adding slick to his fingers. Being an incubus for well over six thousand years, he learned a thing or two, and one of those things was that there were only a handful of people who preferred it to hurt, and he highly doubted the virginal priest was one of them. He also learned the more his prey enjoyed the act, the more energy he gained from them, so if he happened to be adding to the swirl of chemicals in his brain, then who would judge him? A little aphrodisiac never hurt anyone, not in such a low dose.

Aziraphale gasped at the first touch of the cold and wet fingers at his hole. His legs fell away from each other in an open invitation but the demon took his time, stroking and teasing just to feel the flutter of the muscle under his hand.

“Stop teasing,” Aziraphale demanded without a second thought.

“Alright Angel, calm down,” Crowley smirked, sliding his finger home in a quick motion.

His back arched off the bed with a beautiful whimper. Crowley didn’t give him a second to adjust, pumping his finger in and out with a steady pace until his body untensed, relaxing against the bed once again. The second finger slipped in with ease, followed by the third.

Aziraphale’s excited pants turned pained, however. Crowley could hear the shift just barely a tick slower and the blood rushing to his groin slow.

“Need a minute, darling?” Crowley asked, stopping his movement. Like an idiot of course, as he looked down to study the human under him, his glasses slipped down, hitting the man’s stomach with a thud. He could sense the slight panic in the priest at the sight rising up.

“What-”   
“I told you I was an incubus,” Crowley yelped, scrambling with his one free hand to find his glasses in the darkness. He feared the priest would turn him away before he could get his meal as he continued. “I literally turned into a snake while I was in the same room as you, there’s no need to panic now-”

A soft hand stopped him from flailing. Crowley looked up, surprised, only for the priest to offer a gentle smile. “Your eyes are beautiful. I saw them earlier too, it’s alright. Don’t put your glasses back on.”

“Ah well… if you insssisst,” Crowley stammered, cursing himself internally for how easily flustered he was at the simple compliment.

“You can move now.”

Without another word, Crowley did as he was told, pushing in and out to stretch him properly. He crooked his fingers up, searching for the only thing he often thanked God for. The groan he drew from the man under him made his ego inflate as he continued, feeling his power grow with each careen of his hips. He stroked the priest in time with his touch until his gasps quickened.

Aziraphale cried out, so close to the edge when Crowley suddenly pulled away from him. 

“No wait-“

“You’re alright, Angel,” Crowley purred, miracling more slick into his hand as he pushed his trousers down. Thankfully he had thought ahead and manifested genitalia when he shifted from a snake so none of his energy had to be directed to doing that.

Crowley quickly lubricated his cock, trying not to lose himself in his own touch on the burning skin before lining up. Carefully, he began to push in, groaning softly at the tight feeling engulfing him in a burning heat.

Aziraphale whimpered, hips wiggling, whether to get away or more he wasn’t sure. It wasn’t clear until he demanded quietly “more. Now.”

“Quite a bossy little angel aren’t you?” Crowley teased as he obliged the demand.

The priest who had been gripping the sheets with an iron fist suddenly reached up, wrapping his arms tightly around the demon's neck, pulling him closer and deeper until he bottomed out. Now, Crowley could feel his hot breath hitting his neck in shallow pants, sending a shiver down his spine.

The intimacy of the embrace was too much and yet, Crowley couldn’t bring himself to pull away. It felt like he was basking in Her light again to be held so tenderly. Most of his victims were quick and easy. The only one he took his time on seducing was the priest in his arms at that very moment. Perhaps that’s why he felt so overwhelmed to finally be getting what he wanted so desperately for years.

“Please,”

Crowley obliged yet again, drawing himself almost all the way out before plunging back in slow and deep to feel the drag of skin beneath him, reveling in how Aziraphale desperately tried to quicken the pace only to be held down by Crowley’s overly strong arm that pinned him to the bed.

It continued like that for what felt like years, each thrust stroking against the priest’s sweet spot over and over unbearably.

“Faster!” Aziraphale whines loudly, still fighting against the demon holding him down. Short, blunt nails dug harshly into his back in the most delicious way as if he was trying to use pain to urge him on. And Satan did it work. Crowley grabbed hold of the man beneath him and flipped them over inhumanely fast. He could see the confusion cutting through his hazy blue eyes but the idea hit him soon enough of what the demon wanted.

With a lazy fist wrapped around the man’s cock, Crowley stretched out against the plush bed and watched his angel get to work, lowering himself down and impaling himself on his cock.

A priest committing such a sin so willing was driving him crazy.

Aziraphale set a quick pace, his clumsy, virgin- like movements all the more endearing as he tried to learn to ride him. Luckily, the man seemed to be a fast learner, leaning just right to get him deeper and closer to where he wanted. Every time he came up, his dick slid into the loose fist wrapped around it, drawing quiet moans that worked their way to screams.

He was close. The energy the act was feeding into Crowley was giving him more power than he had ever imagined. He started thrusting himself, matching the rhythm perfectly to draw out the most pleasure possible.

It was too much, Aziraphale thought desperately. Just as he neared that cliff yet again the demon’s fist closed tighter, sending shocks through his groin.

“Crowley! Crowley, I’m gonna…”

“I know, Angel, go ahead, cum for me.”

It wasn’t immediate. It wasn’t as if he was waiting for the okay from the demon but his words certainly egged him on.

The dreams didn’t compare to the feeling of release in the real world. It ripped the breath from his chest as he shuddered, the boiling point reached in his groin. Even when Aziraphale couldn’t move anymore, the demon kept pumping his fist. It felt like electricity running through his body with every touch, shockwaves pushing him to his limit.

Crowley, however, wasn’t finished with him. He only gave the man a minutes rest before continuing, fucking into him with abandon and all but using him.

If Aziraphale could get hard again so soon he would have immediately. His mind hazy with exhaustion tried desperately to stay awake while Crowley used him. Vaguely he realized he shouldn’t feel so turned on being used like this but he couldn’t care less. As long as Crowley was fucking him he was content.

Instead of drawing it out any longer, Crowley felt the weakening of the man’s heart. He had drawn too much energy from him. With a panic he had never felt before he quickly stopped, holding him still and breathing deeply, hoping with every bone in his body he didn’t accidentally kill his favorite human.

Aziraphale fell forward, laying on top of the demon with abandon, too out of it to care. “Don’t stop.”

“I’ve got to Angel,” Crowley purred in his ear, stroking his hair back. “I can’t kill you.”

“You won’t!” Aziraphale cried, trying to move his body. It felt like he’d die if Crowley didn’t continue. “It’s… it’s tickety boo.”

“Hush darling,” Crowley laughed lightly. “I’ll be back, don’t you worry.”

“Finish. At least, please.”

Ah. Just as he always demanded in his dreams, Crowley thought fondly. It certainly felt good to hear it aloud. “Anything for you, angel.”

He carefully laid Aziraphale back on his back, with joy he didn’t even try to cover himself up, watching Crowley closing as he leaned over him, miricaling more slick into his hand.

It didn’t take long to finish, the hot liquid splattering over the man’s bare stomach and supple thighs.

As soon as he felt it hit him, mixing with his own mess that lay in the same area, he fell into a dreamless sleep for the first time in years.

Crowley carefully went about cleaning him up, pulling up the blanket over his nude body- the only reminder he was ever there. With one last glance at his angel, he slithered back into the night, vowing to visit him again. 

**Author's Note:**

> I quit this half way through and picked it up months later so let me know if there’s any glaring mistakes. Come talk to me about good omens on Twitter! @jellypanda00


End file.
